


Touch

by deleerium



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-09
Updated: 2006-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deleerium/pseuds/deleerium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is it me or just that you need to touch?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

Orlando slouches absently across the hotel room, wrinkled script in one hand, track pants billowing around his bare feet. He chews on the end of his finger. "There are chairs," he says, then sits cross-legged on the bed. Turns the page. Not expecting a response. 

Viggo raises one jean-covered leg and rests his arm across the knee. Back pressed against the mattress. His eyes flick left and right, following the ticker on BBC world news. He flexes his wrist and the joint crackles softly. He feels the bed shimmy behind him. Not surprised when Orlando's voice comes zipping by his ear. 

"Stretch and it wouldn't pop." Orlando's face down on the bed, bare calves, ankles, feet waving above his hips, a pool of track pants settling around his knees. He lowers the script and leans forward. Rubbing his lips over Viggo's temple -- salt and pepper tickling his nose. He pulls back and turns the page. Not expecting a response. 

The ticker scrolls for another minute. Two. Three. "Is it me or just that you need to touch?" Viggo's eyes stare steadily at the muted TV screen. 

The script rustles as Orlando pushes it to one side. He hooks a finger in the black collar of Viggo's shirt - tugs - and buries his nose against the skin that joins neck and shoulder. "You." 

The word echo’s down, into Viggo's ribs - muffled against his collar bone. 

He turns off the TV.


End file.
